


I think you'd look pretty good on me

by lazulisong



Series: russia shenanigans [5]
Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Clothes, Famous NHL Player Cameo, Oblivious Heartbreaker Katsuki Yuuri, Russia Shenanagans, The Chads - Freeform, yuri katsuki destroys the nhl
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-22
Updated: 2018-03-22
Packaged: 2019-04-06 08:48:16
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,148
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14053287
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lazulisong/pseuds/lazulisong
Summary: Yuri had no idea why he'd even gotten the jersey from the guy. People liked to give him shirts, though. It was weird.





	I think you'd look pretty good on me

**Author's Note:**

  * For [cafecliche](https://archiveofourown.org/users/cafecliche/gifts).



> HAPPY BIRTHDAY BEE FROM ME and also verity who did all the tense changes for me like a HERO

It's a good evening.

They're curled up together on the couch and Victor's hair is tickling his nose and mouth. Victor is half in his lap, cuddling aggressively, like he thinks Yuri might make him stop, with his arms looped around Yuri's waist. Even Makkachin is asleep on the other end of the couch, snoring softly. 

Practice was satisfying -- even Yakov-sensei growled "not bad" at him. Victor insisted on calling for takeout, even though Yuri said they had plenty of food in the house and ought to eat leftover curry. They soothed their sore muscles in a hot shower, and Victor let Yuri wash his hair and was flatteringly eager to have Yuri put his greedy hands wherever he wanted to put them, and to touch Yuri in return. 

For five minutes Yuri feels completely contented, like if he could freeze time right now he would stay in that moment for all of eternity.

Of course, it's too good to last. Victor stirs lazily, rubs his head against Yuri's shoulder, and says, "What's that on your shirt, bunny?"

"Hmm?"

Victor lifts himself away from Yuri and plucks at Yuri's shirt. 

Yuri got a lot of shirts from guys in Detroit. Once a guy in his philosophy class (just reading and writing essays, easy to do in planes and cars and sleepless nights waiting to fail at competition) convinced Phichit that they ought to take marijuana and go to White Castle. It was an important American experience, he claimed. Phichit dragged Yuri along in all his new American experiences, so they solemnly ate one pot brownie each and drove to a White Castle about half an hour away from their apartment. Yuri ate about fifteen of the slider burgers, but then the philosophy class guy bought Yuri a very small souvenir tee shirt and started talking about how he liked being fucked by guys with big brown eyes when he was high, so Phichit and Yuri excused themselves and called Celestino for a ride home.

Celestino said it served them right for listening to philosophy majors, but he made them a big pot of spaghetti and told them stories about when he'd been their age and going wild at the Olympics, so that was okay.

This was a Red Wings jersey, but it didn't have any story like that attached to it. Some guy -- Chad? -- had just gotten signed from the Deuces to the Red Wings and gave Yuri the jersey because -- Yuri had no idea. Maybe he had a bunch to give away. Maybe he thought Yuri looked cold. Everybody in Detroit thought that Yuri looked cold, because Yuri spent his entire college career _freezing to death_. His only comfort was the way Phichit was also _freezing to death_ at all times, and they could huddle up together like two hothouse flowers in a blizzard.

Anyway, he had offered it and Yuri was cold enough to take it. Then it was awkward because Yuri had worn it home and forgot to bring it back to the rink the next day. Then he didn't see the guy for a month because he was on a road trip and then Yuri was, and after that Yuri couldn't bring it up because it seemed too rude to remind Probably Chad he was too forgetful to keep track of his clothing. So then it was Yuri's. Phichit said he ought to wear it to a game, but NHL games were expensive and horribly full of drunk Americans singing along to the music blaring over the loudspeakers. 

Yuri wouldn't even be wearing it now, but it was nice and big and he felt like being cozy. He really wanted to pull on one of Victor's sweaters, but they're all cashmere or lambswool and he's afraid he'll get lo mein all over them.

"It's just a jersey," says Yuri, but he lets Victor paw it off him and spread it out. "I think he gave it to me because he got ink on it."

"He definitely got ink on it," says Victor, studying it. "It's got his name and --."

Yuri says, "Why would you give someone a jersey you already wrote your name on?"

"I adore you," says Victor. "Ah -- American phone numbers are three digits, three digits, four digits, right?"

"Yes?" says Yuri.

"Hmmm," says Victor. "So let me get this straight, a member of an NHL team gave you a jersey with his name and phone number on it and you...?" he trails off.

"He never asked for it back, so I just sort of kept it," says Yuri.

Victor is silent for a moment, staring at him incredulously. Then he says, "Bunny, he was hitting on you."

"What?" says Yuri.

"He gave you an autographed game day jersey with his phone number! Do you know what these go for?"

"No," says Yuri.

"I need my phone," says Victor.

"Why?" says Yuri, suspicious.

"I need to text Sasha," says Victor, making a long arm for his phone on the couch table.

"You do not!" squawks Yuri, smacking at his hands, and somehow they end up wrestling for it, Victor cackling villainously the entire time. Victor texting Sasha never ends well.

"Sasha's going to love this!" chirps Victor.

"Victor!"

Somehow Victor lands on top of Yuri and sits on him with his bony butt while he texts Sasha, He only lets Yuri go because he's too busy laughing at what Sasha is texting back to see Yuri strike. Yuri bites his forearm. Victor, an only child, isn't expecting it at all, and he yells and flails off the couch. Yuri immediately moves over to Makkachin's side of the couch and glares at him.

"S-Sorry, bunny," says Victor, laughing.

Yuri sticks out his lower lip. "No, you're not!"

Yuri doesn't speak to Victor for a whole half-hour afterwards. He even goes as far as to wrap himself up in a fuzzy blanket and hug a throw pillow instead of letting Victor kiss him and apologize.

Still, eventually Victor stops laughing and starts whining, so Yuri begrudgingly allows Victor to give him a kiss on his nose and a glass of wine and then another kiss, but on his mouth, and then he lets Victor coax him out from the blanket and wrap it around them both so they're all close together and warm despite the darkness of the Saint Petersburg winter. After that, it's a small step to putting his hands over where Victor's hands are wrapped around his torso, and then it seems like Victor might as well be allowed to put kisses under his jaw until Yuri goes all boneless and shivery.

"Are you still mad at me?" says Victor.

"Yes," says Yuri, but he puts his head on Victor's shoulder so he's not sure Victor is really sure that he's in trouble. "You're very rude."

"You're very cute," Victor tells him.

**Author's Note:**

> i had four precious days off and so far I have spent two of them cleaning house, so tonight I was determined to write Bee her birthday fic and drink wine out of a mason jar. It was very nice. Remember, if you don't know what you should comment, drink a water and tell me about that instead. 
> 
> I am as always on [le tumbs](http://lazulisong.tumblr.com).


End file.
